


touch my neck and i'll touch yours

by preshire



Series: misadventures of nick grimshaw and harry styles [5]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Love Bites, M/M, Pornographic Images?, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preshire/pseuds/preshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“well i’m not shagging any of them.” harry says in a matter of fact tone. “giving a love bite doesn’t necessarily mean something sexual.”</p>
<p>“not necessarily.” nick replies dubiously, and he notices that his arm has somehow ended up linked with harry’s, and that the younger man is playing with the bracelets on nick’s wrist.</p>
<p>“not necessarily.” harry agrees, voice low. he turns his head to the side, and smiles filthily. “see, look.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	touch my neck and i'll touch yours

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "Harry and Nick have just become friends and Nick is baffled by Harry’s lack of boundaries and doesn’t know what to do. Cue Harry giving Nick a hickey and laughing and Nick being alarmed/aroused and having a freak out and ranting about it to Pixie." by charcharberry on tumblr. I got you. (I forgot him laughing though but I hope the inter-band bum picture makes up for it???) Written with total lack of caps. Title from Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood
> 
> ALSO, includes a 17 year old boy giving a 27 year old man a hickey.
> 
> disclaimer: this probably didn't happen.

harry paws at nick’s collar, poking and prodding at the stiff material of the shirt and grimacing and being a right nuisance. nick is trying to lounge here— they’re in a lounge chair for a reason-- but harry does not seem to grasp onto the fact that not everyone wants a popstar draped across their body at all hours of the day.

(that his rule for most celebrities, anyway. nick doesn't mind having this particular one invading his personal space.)

“get off of me,” nick enunciates clearly, but makes no move to push harry off. “i’ve had enough clingy popstar for one day.”

harry just grins up at him, and snuggles a little closer into nick’s side as they lay together. nick should probably be calling him a cab around now, because harry’s a bit drunk and looks way too easy to be taken advantage of. but honestly, it's not  _his_ job to mind harry (he's got actual minders for that), and nick has a notoriously bad track record for when it comes to taking care of 17 year olds. well, never quite so young as 17. but the point stands.

"honestly, you're all really mad." nick mutters. "you and your whole lot of pubescent millionaires."

"hey," harry protests, and his voice is so low it's practically a purr. "why are we mad?"

nick gestures down to himself. "i literally met you 20 minutes ago and you've sellotaped yourself to my body.

"it was not 20 minutes," harry whines, but gets distracted by the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. "a good 45, maybe."

"and a good 45 minutes it's been." it hasn't only been 45 minutes. he's known harry for months and months now, been passed the debacle with harry being mistaken for frankie cocozza (he refused to even acknowledge being mistaken for harry's dad, nope). "but i still think you're mad."

harry doesn't reply, just squints at his phone screen with a lost expression. nick can actually hear the wheels turning behind harry's drowsy eyes, and he stretches his neck to look at harry's phone. "what're you staring at, then?"

"nosy." harry murmurs, but tilts the screen so that nick can see. "i think louis' just sent me a picture of his bum."

nick snorts, disbelieving but after a second look, yes that is definitely a bum on harry's phone screen. he's not even sure how to react in this situation, because he's seen his fair share of nudie pictures, but he's never been pouring over them with an under 18 who is currently frowning up a storm.

"his rash isn't gone, then." nick's pretty sure that harry's just talking to himself at that point, because he certainly doesn't know how to respond to that either. all that's really going on in his head is a symphony of incredulous ???'s because ???

"and you actually asked  _why_ i think you're mad?" nick shakes his head, but he takes another look at louis' butt anyways. and harry's right, there appears to be some sort of redness on the right cheek and he can't believe he's looking at this and that harry thinks it's so normal to be looking at this. and the way the picture is angled makes nick sure that louis couldn't have taken it himself. he wonders which one of his bandmates had taken it, in this slightly perverse dynamic. maybe it was liam. he seemed too vanilla on the outside to not be into something very strange on the inside.

harry, bless his heart, looks even more confused at his words. "what do you mean?" his eyes furrow. "this isn't weird. we've all seen each other naked anyways."

"yeah, and i've seen aimee naked too but she isn't sending me snapshots of her nether regions asking 'hey, do you think this is a yeast infection'?"

harry shakes his head with a exasperated smile on his face that nick thinks is far too judgey for a  ~~man~~ boy holding a picture of his best mate's rear end in his hand. "it's different. we're like, family, you know? they're like my brothers, all of them."

this is spiralling out of control too fast for nick's liking. "and you don't see what's wrong with you sending dirty pictures to your 'like brothers'? it's half a step away from incest."

"you are impossible." harry opts for understated and for conflict resolution and nick would respect that if he wasn't still _holding a picture of louis' bum_. this whole situation requires further attention. 

nick shifts slightly in the lounge chair, bumping harry into a position where he doesn't have to see his bloody phone screen anymore. it also brings harry's head to rest on his shoulder, and nick rests his cheek on harry's soft curls to reassure him that he isn't trying to just take the piss. "i don't get it," he says honestly, and he pokes harry gently in the side. "i don't get you, especially."

harry (finally) puts his phone down. "what?"

"you're all," nick struggles to find the right words, and it's something he's unused to. "you're all handsy, all the time and you have absolutely no boundaries or sense of personal space and you make me uncomfortable."

harry, to nick's distress, starts to laugh. "i make you uncomfortable? really?"

"yes!" nick squawks defensively, "and you're always covered in love bites and i can't tell if it's because you've just pulled someone, or if you've pulled one of your bandmates."

harry pauses for a moment, still chortling. "is this your way of asking if i'm having sex with any of my bandmates?"

"no," nick blurts. "yes. well, no. don't really care if you are, to be honest. but don't tell me they're like brothers to you and then tell me that you're also shagging them."

"well i'm not shagging any of them." harry says in a matter of fact tone. "giving a love bite doesn't necessarily mean something sexual."

"not necessarily." nick replies dubiously, and he notices that his arm has somehow ended up linked with harry's, and that the younger man is playing with the bracelets on nick's wrist.

"not necessarily." harry agrees, voice low. he turns his head to the side, and smiles filthily. "see, look."

before nick can open his mouth to say anything, harry's surged forward and has latched his mouth onto nick's neck like a curly haired little vampire. nick shrieks rather embarrassingly, and tries his best to scramble out from out of harry's grasp but to no avail. harry's rather strong for a 17 year old, and nick's limbs are just limp spaghetti bolognese noodles. 

harry suckles at the sensitive skin at the base of nick's neck. nick's never gotten a love bite without a fair amount of teeth involved, but harry's lips are gentle, and the combination of the softness of the bite compared to how roughly he's holding nick's arms away is strangely arousing.

nick's closes his mouth, opens it, then closes it again and his hands go from struggling to get free to clenching onto harry's forearms where his biceps are being held down. he tilts his head back slightly, and his body (involuntarily, he swears) relaxes under the popstar. harry seems to realize this, because he shifts from his slightly awkward position at nick's side to hovering above him, all his weight pitched forward on his hands and knees. the mood has suddenly changed in the room, the air feels heavier and nick's gasping for breath. it was a joke, very briefly a joke but now he’s drowning in how much he _wants_ this and how much harry _wants_ it too.

nick bites his lip, refusing to let any noises locked up in his throat escape. as hot as harry is, and as fast as nick's cock is swelling just below his jeans, he doesn't want to fuck harry and never hear from him again. as dumb as it sounds, and as disbelieving as all of nick's friends are, he actually likes the lad. and casual sex always seems to ruin his friendships. 

so as soon as harry has left a sufficient mark and has detached himself from nick's neck, the 27 year old lets go of the boy and shimmies out from under him and out of the lounge chair. he laughs, slightly awkwardly, and makes a joke about how many teen girls want to have a hickey from harry styles, and then offers to call him cab. harry seems small and abandoned, sitting alone on the seat, and the look that he gives him makes nick want to impale himself with an sword for this partial rejection. but he just can't bring himself to do this to either of them. 

nick sits in his living room for at least half an hour after harry's left, just staring at the wall and willing his erection to go down because he refuses to wank over his friend. he eventually gives up and heads to bed, and he comes all over his hand at the thought of everything else harry's lips can do.

゜・。。・゜☆゜・。。・゜☆ ゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜

nick wakes up in the morning with a pixie climbing into bed with him. he opens his eyes, and peeks at his alarm clock, which belligerently informs him that it's 10 in the morning. he's just glad that he cleaned up the spunk on him last night.

"what you want?" nick grunts, voice croaky and gross. he could never do the breakfast show. he didn't have it in him.

"had a party nearby," pixie sighs, and she peers at him from under her bangs. "came here instead. thought you'd enjoy my company. i'm tired."

nick makes a noise of affirmation-- of "yes i heard you but no i don't really care and i'm going back to sleep"--- and closes his eyes and silently deciding that he would not be doing productive things for a few more hours at the least, but pixie clearly has other things in mind. even though it's 10am and if she's just gotten back from a party and she must be exhausted. 

she pokes at his neck, where the dark bruise against his pale skin is sensitive to the touch. "what's this?"

"a love bite."

"i see that." pixie says suspiciously. he can already sense the mass text she's about to send all their mutual acquaintances, and he's never understood her and aimee's obsession with his love life. "who is it from?"

nick turns over onto his side away from pixie. "it's from harry," he mumbles, making sure to push his mouth into his pillow before mentioning his name.

she must still understand, because she starts cackling, and to his utter dismay he can hear her tapping away at her phone keys. "we all knew this was going to happen. all of us. we made bets as to how long it'd take for you to shag him. i just won."

"i didn't shag him. he just gave me a friendly love bite. between friends. because we're friends. we didn't shag," he whines.

pixie ignores him completely. "gells bet that you'd have already done it when you first met him, so she obviously lost when you turned out to have morals or something. i said you'd do it before his 18th. henry said you'd wait until he was legal, but that's why henry's wrong."

"we didn't shag."

"was he incredible? that's something you can cross of your bucket list. fuck someone in a boyband. oh wait, i forgot all about that jonas brother a few years back. but anyways, he looks like he'd be right good in bed. he's got nice lips."

"pix!" nick sits up in bed, and his hair is going everywhere but he does  _not_ need to be thinking any more about harry and his stupid lips. "i did not have sex with harry!"

pixie sits up with him, and he notices for the first time that she's stripped down to nothing but her knickers and bra, and this is why there's so many straight men pretending to be gay nowadays. she tilts her head to the side, and she blinks in confusion. "you didn't?"

"no!" nick falls back onto the pillow, and he rubs at his neck distractedly. "i kicked him out after he finished sucking on my neck. he was like a kitten, pix. or like, a baby suckling milk. it was unnerving."

"you kicked him out?" pixie's still sitting up, and she's looking at the wall with a look of utter befuddlement. then she mirrors nick's movement, and falls back beside him. she nuzzles her head onto the same pillow as him. "why'd you do that?"

nick bites the inside of his mouth. "i dunno. didn't seem right. he's a good mate."

"that's never stopped you before," pixie points out unhelpfully. "you must really like him."

this sets a few warning bells off in nick's brain, but he mostly ignores them. "as a friend. i really like him as a friend."

pixie's quiet. then, "yeah grimmy. as a friend."

nick sighs, and closes his eyes for exactly 5 seconds before his own phone starts buzzing on his bedside. he reaches towards it, with every intention of throwing it out the window but when he sees the message lit up on his screen he just groans even louder.

"pixie," he clenches his teeth. "why is hens asking me if harry's as good in bed as he looks?"

pixie snickers. 


End file.
